So there is program, the stuff of which discussions about the genre are made (is made?), the mostly panel discussions that take up hours of the daylight events at a convention. There's also programs, the written stuff you refer to during the weekend and perhaps later, when you get home. And yes, i have most definite opinions on both, so brace yourselves. And we'll have to talk program Written in the NEXT damn installment. Sorry!

I learned how to do the first, the panels discussions, out of necessity when we needed someone to take the job on for the '94 Bouchercon. I had not worked in program or program ops before (Program ops, a department that only exists sometimes, is more or less the logistics department, the folks who ensure that things, and people, are where they should be. I think. I've never really known since I haven't really needed to rely on that department. Sometimes it's smushed in with the Green Room, when that is feasible.) At the time, I figured okay, I've been to enough conventions to know what program should look like. Now I need to know "the secrets", the stuff that isn't obvious. So I called Debbie Notkin, my long-time friend who had just done program for a small but very well-received con in the bay area and asked her the question that i knew she'd understand. "What do I need to know that I don't know?" She gave me two pieces of advice that I have passed on to every program organizer I know who's asked and I incorporated it into my con-running guide (free! it's free! really! do you want one?) (it's not complete but I have been told it's helpful). Her advice, which I've probably mentioned elsewhere had to do with philosophy. Part of it was "how do you see your program participants?" and some was logistical. And it was probably about 20 years ago that I asked her these questions and they still hold.

So here are my "rules" for making convention program the best it can be.

Rule number one - push as hard as you can - albeit politely and do not harangue - for your panelists to talk ahead of time. This is the job of the program moderator and s/he should be willing and able to take the time to do this. I've been on both sorts of program - those where we exchange emails and suggest questions and provide bios to each other. That seems to some folks like overkill. I prefer it because I have a real fear of being unprepared and looking foolish. I just do. I suspect no one would give a damn, but I need this. i think being prepared and doing all this possibly over-zealous or anal stuff is respectful of the attendees who are sitting in the chairs facing you. I just find that panels where the people haven't talked in advance aren't as good. They wander, the lack of prep shows. Often that is not something people care about. I do. I've become a valuable moderator, apparently, because of that fear of looking stupid. I've copied my style from people who give good panel. So I believe that when you notify your panelists in advance - you are doing that, right? - that you provide email addresses and send a letter that stresses this important point.

Attached to this point is that point about having a Green Room. Showing up in the program room five minutes before the panel isn't a great idea. Meeting in the green room to ensure you're all there, introducing everyone as a basic courtesy, and ironing out any last minute issues (I have to leave early, can I sit on the end, is there tea?, I use a wheelchair, I don't hear well, can I sit X?) works better in a room outside of the program room where people are coming/going.

Rule Number Two - I believe that good panel works best when participants have time to talk, maybe go off on a tangent if needed. The most boring program is a line-up of folks who "don't know why I'm on this panel" (hearing that once too often I swore that if I did program, no one would ever feel the need to say that. I've made big errors, but so far as I know, I've never made that error. I believe that if you are allowing your program participants 50 minutes, then you must limit the number of people to FOUR plus. That means "four plus a moderator. Not five. A panel includes intros of all of you. It includes a quick "what we're here to talk about" since often there's not enough info on that. Then of course you need to leave time for questions from the audience. In order to offer something interesting, something more than skimming the surface, I think it's fair to keep your program small. This may mean that you need to tell folks that they may only get one program to be on. That is appropriate and acceptable. This may mean that not every pro gets to be on a program item. That is appropriate and acceptable. Nowhere is it written that all pros get panels. Nowhere is it written that fans should not be panelists. Nowhere is it written that we fans are best when we moderate because well gosh, it's the pros that people come to hear, right?

Except that's not necessarily a useful way to look at tings. A good panel is a good panel. It depends far more on preparation than star power. Some recent conventions I've seen don't give focus to the program, but assume that a moderator and five cool people will make something happen. Okay, I guess. It's not a program I'd go to, but if oh, wow, you like those panelists, maybe that works for you.

Oh and speaking of focus, give your moderator a hook to work from. A catchy title is not enough. I know folks who disagree and say it's better to give the moderator something vague to work from. I think that leads to an unfocused discussion and a confused moderator and panel. I've moderated a few panels where I got my assignment and immediately had to ask "what does this mean?" That's not good; if I don't know, how will you? I don't get the ide3a of using "theme" titles and think it's a stretch. Catchy is good. Confusing is not. Many, if not most, attendees do not necessarily come to your convention for your guests of honor, so using their book titles, or the streets of their town, or whatever sounds spiffy does not serve. It won't help folks decide "do I want to attend that panel?" Make it clear. Be hip, be funny, but then describe clearly.

Almost done, ok? Okay. Make sure the room works. Whether you have volunteer monitors or a whole department dedicated to making it work, please make it work. From checking the heat in the room to whether there are water glasses, from name tents to working mikes, make it work. And prioritize please. By that I mean, well, okay, here. I've been a panel moderator for over 10 years. I keep a watch and can manage to keep time on my program. I don't need someone waving a sign. Some folks might but you know? You can always point to someone in the front row and say "hey, do me a favor?" and in most cases, you've got yourself a time-keeper. On the other hand, your front row sitters probably cannot make the wheelchair lift work (even if one of them is an engineer, thanks for trying Vicky, sorry I messed up about lunch.) Make sure things work. (And thanks Rae for the tea.)

At a lot of conventions, I know that program is really not of interest to many of us Old Phans. Been there, done that, don't go to program. We might be on it, but heavens, no we don't go. I often don't because I' really am puzzled by the topic or because I don't want to hear the baffled panelist doing the baffled panelist line. (Clue - if you don't know why you're there, you shouldn't be up there. You should have said something weeks ago.) But when folks do take program seriously, they deserve enjoyable, witty, interesting, maybe provocative discussion. If it ends with "gosh, we wish we had more time" then you've done well.

Make it easy for people to want to attend program. Make it worth their while by being organized and ready with good questions from your moderator and a focused topic. Don't crowd the dais, so that people have time to really talk.